I was spending the evening at my boyfriend's place, feeling increasingly uncomfortable as time went on. I had been desperate to take a shit for hours but just couldn't find the relief I needed. It was like there was a massive log of poop stuck somewhere deep inside me, refusing to budge. The more time passed, the worse the situation seemed to get.
Finally, I decided to sit on the edge of the bed and just breathe for a moment. Clutching my belly, I could feel the log pushing against my asshole, stretching it out until it felt like it was about to give way. The thought of going to the bathroom was starting to seem impossibly boring, though. I glanced over at my boyfriend's desk and an idea suddenly popped into my head.
I hovered my ass over the thick pile of bills lying there, feeling the cool surface against my skin. This was going to be epic. I braced myself, clenching my muscles as tightly as I could, and tried to release the massive log inside me.
It was an intense experience, both physically and mentally. My asshole stretched wide as the log pressed against it, but somehow it found a way to push through. After what felt like an eternity, there was a moment of relief as the thick, heavy log started to slide out of me. It landed neatly on top of the bills with a squelching sound that filled the room.
I had never been so proud of myself. The log was huge—it had to be at least a foot long! And it looked so amazing, just lying there on top of the bills. The thick, clumpy, dry part looked almost rock-like, while the soft, more pliable end had a glistening sheen to it.
I couldn't resist taking a quick whiff of the poo. It smelled incredible—strong and musky, with just a hint of sweetness. I could only imagine what it would be like when I showed it to my boyfriend.
Unfortunately, the smell was starting to get a little overwhelming in the room. Even though I wanted to see his reaction, I decided to retreat to the other room for a while. I heard him come in a few minutes later, coughing and sputtering as he tried to escape the stench.
When I finally came back, I found him practically hyperventilating on the couch. "What happened?" I asked, surprised and a little worried. "The smell... it's unbearable."
I nodded, trying not to giggle. "Well, I had to do it somewhere, didn't I?" I said, feeling a little guilty. I cleaned up the mess as best I could, tossing the stained, irreparable bills in the trash.
Later on, after the smell had mostly dissipated, we talked about what had happened. He was surprisingly OK with it, although he still wasn't a fan of the poo-filled room. He couldn't believe I had actually gone through with it, or that I had found it so exciting.
But for me, it was more than just a thrill. It was a way to express myself, to show my boyfriend that I was comfortable with him and my body. And it was a feeling that I couldn't wait to experience again.
